


Come Wake Me Up

by beckettlovescastlealways



Category: Bones (TV)
Genre: Depression, Gen, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Self-Harm, Suicide Attempt, mentions of torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-27
Updated: 2016-07-27
Packaged: 2018-03-22 01:01:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3709209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beckettlovescastlealways/pseuds/beckettlovescastlealways
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Brennan is coping with a dark secret, among other things, she turns to cutting. What happens when the others find out? Will she be able to quit with a serial killer copying past cases and taunting her to catch them? Will she and Booth be able to remain partners, let alone friends?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Brennan's POV

The laughter from the Jeffersonian table flitted through the Founding Fathers as Hodgins tried to tell us a story, having trouble through the laughs, of him in college something about his roommate, some vodka and a dollar store water gun.

Our group lapses into comfortable silence the quiet hangs over our table until it's broken by Cam seeing the time and announcing "Well, I got to go Michelle is home tonight."

"I probably should be heading out to." Hodgins says then looks at Angela, "Need a ride?" he questions

She nods

"I probably should go to." says Sweets getting up from the stool

"Ok," I say with a smile in their direction "See you guys tomorrow"

"Bye drive safe" Booth tells them scooting over a few seats to sit by me

"I really should be going as well, Booth." 

"Come on, Bones, just one more drink please."

"Fine Booth, just one more."

He raises his glass "Here's to partners, to right here, right now.

"To that not changing," I say clinking my glass against his.

The scene from over a year ago fades from my eyes as I crash back to reality.

Booth is with Hannah, he doesn't care.

Angela has Hodgins to care for her.

Sweets has Daisy. And Cam has Paul, she blames me for the team breaking up anyway.

Cam is in charge of the lab and Hodgins is it's largest contributor.

All in all I'm pretty useless.

The scene, that less then 12 months ago was pretty much a weekly occurrence was now just a dream. A fantasy.

I take the disposable razor blade and slowly pull it across my shoulder,

Twice for hurting Booth,

A third for leaving,

The fourth for being jealous of Hannah,

The fifth is because what my 'friends' would do, how they would feel, if they found out.

I watch the blood trickle down my arm in morbid curiosity until it starts to pool in the crook of my elbow and wipe it up just before it drips to the floor.

After I finish cutting I take the blade and wrap it in a couple dozen squares of toilet paper and flush it.

I grab some disinfectant and spray it on to my shoulder I half hiss at the sting but, I am used to it anymore. I can't let anyone figure it out.

I wrap it I a plain bandage so as not to stain the bed. Then proceed to get ready for sleep.

As I lay down I half expect to be greeted by my now constant friend, insomnia, but that was better then the other option of nightmares. I guess the latter one won out as I slowly drift off.

I awake in a dark room with a single light pointed directly at me. The first voice I hear is Booth's but I can't see him "God, Bones why are you so damn selfish, I'm finally happy with Hannah. Don't you see, I never cared about you. You're worthless. Get a soul."

Then Hodgins voice joins in "Is it really that easy for you!? To forget what happened to us! Are you really that emotionless?! That cold?!"

Then Sweets "You don't care. You're a cold fish."

Then I hear Cam's voice. "What happened is you put your own desires ahead of everything else... we had a great thing going. You just... you let it fall apart.

Then Angela's voice joins in "You're going to die alone. How can we be friends?"

The voices seem to get louder and louder until I yell "Enough!"

I bolt up awake in my bed.

Seeing that I got about an hour and a half of sleep, which is double what I normally get, I get up and just try writing my book, knowing I won't get any more sleep tonight.

I write till I have to get ready for work.

Ready to fake being okay in front of the people who know me best.


	2. Haunted

Come morning, I slowly pull the bandage off my shoulder trying to stop the scabs from bleeding when it comes off revealing the mess of pale scars, puffy pink older cuts, and angry red cuts across my upper arms, I pause at the view showing how weak I am. I can't help but hope that one day I cut too deep, let them know how weak I actually am.

I slowly finish getting dressed hoping none of the scabs start to bleed on anything. I put a navy blue top on making sure the sleeves cover the lowest scar up to the highest cut. It will hide any blood that comes if a scab opens up. I put on a nice pair of black dress pants and head for the door.

As I enter the Jeffersonian I do everything that is expected of me as I fake being better than just getting by, if that's even what I'm doing. So I smile as the others say good morning to me, even though it's anything but a good morning. I laugh at Angela's joke that everyone had heard before, like I'm supposed to, though I feel like crying. I check in with Cam then find myself hoping that we don't have a case so I can hide in Limbo.

As it turns out we don't, which is good because a case means acting ok for two more people, Booth and Sweets. It's hard enough to pretend in front of Angela, Hodgins and Cam without adding the person who knew me best and the person who deals with emotions everyday and are both geniuses at reading people’s actions.

Little did I know that even with all the faking they did notice the haunted look in my eyes.

It's lunch time before I finally leave Limbo, leaving being a habit from days long gone when Booth would come to drag me out for lunch, before he got tired of lying, or pretending to care.

Of course my plan to slip out undetected is halted by Cam, "are you feeling okay, Dr. Brennan?"

"Yes, why wouldn't I be, Dr. Saroyan?" I ask with a forced smile, hoping she wouldn't notice anything wrong. I note that the lab is mostly empty

"You seemed…off… this morning." She said with a piercing look in my direction.

"What do you mean ‘off’." I ask confused.

 

“Kind of,I don’t know, like you would rather be anywhere else.”

 

“I apologize Dr. Saroyan, it won’t happen again.” 

 

"O…Kay ." She says giving me a look I can't quite decipher.

"Want to go for lunch? I was about to go to the diner.” I ask hoping to direct the subject to something else that does not revolve around how messed up and weak I am.

She must have known the other conversation was not going to continue "Sure."

As we leave the Jeffersonian I can't stop going to, as booth calls it, la la land, and as a result I don't really hear what Cam’s talking about or notice the big rise in a section of the sidewalk. I feel it knock my feet out from under me, I feel the nearby lamp post ruffle my shirt sleeve and pushing it up to well past my lowest cuts and scars. I didn't notice it happened until after blood is trickling down my arm. I watch it for a second before I realize how noticeable it is and I snap my eyes up to Cam. She is looking at the scars criss-crossing my upper arm and shoulder and the fresh blood.

Her eyes shoot up and meet mine I see worry and betrayal but not surprise.

 

“Brennan…”she says, apparently overcoming her shock to try and speak.

 

"It's nothing." I interrupt her before she can continue. I turn on my heel and walk quickly back to the Jeffersonian before she can say anything else, before she can lie.


	3. Regrets

Regrets

When I get to the lab I make haste for the bathroom, I grab a handful of paper towels and start soaking up the blood. Thankfully, it stops bleeding quickly and I can lower my sleeve so it once again covers my scars without leaving a noticeable stain. 

I then pull on my lab coat happy it will hide the small blood stains on my shoulder, not that you could tell, thankful that navy blue makes it all but disappear. With the addition of the lab coat not even the brilliant scientists of the Jeffersonian will notice. 

I pause for a minute, trying to think of what to do about Cam seeing the cuts.

Would she tell Sweets or Angela?

Would she tell Booth?

No, she usually tries to tell as few people as possible about personal items. But what if this time she didn't, what if she did tell one or more of the others?

If she did tell what would happen is Sweets would call the hospital, they would force me to take antidepressants and those already aren't working. Booth and Angela would blame themselves, probably think they should've seen it.

I can't do that to them.

So what could I do, Cam is smart enough to know, that based on the number and my reaction to her seeing them, that it wasn't an accident, that I wanted to keep them hidden. What other conclusion would she come up with but the truth?

I could lie, tell Cam they're from digs or foster care. Tell her that I was surprised to see a cut I got a few days ago bleeding so much. I could tell her I did cut, but I stopped years ago. I was at almost 15 years till everything fell apart. Tell her anything but the truth, feed her the lies the others believe so easily. But even with all the lying in the world, the reaction I had should've been enough for anyone to know, especially a former cop. Add the fact that she didn't look all that surprised…I won't lie, I logically can't.

I could run, leave until she forgets, go on a dig, call it a vacation, a sabbatical, just quit, but I won't ruin my family, because they are just that, not by blood but by choice and just as strong, but the last time I left we almost broke entirely… I won't run, I can't force myself, emotionally.

I could face it head on, tell her the truth. And see the pity in her eyes, have them blame themselves for my weakness, that could break the team…I won't tell the truth,I don't want and can’t handle their pity.

I could tell her that it is none of her business, that wouldn't work, she would be more worried, insist that it is her business. I won't do that, to much potential for guilt. 

I could pretend it's nothing, pretend that everything is better than fine, that I'm not just barely getting through each day but, that is a lie…I won't pretend.

So that leaves avoidance, it couldn't be that hard I have months of paperwork to do, that will be a fine excuse, hopefully no one will question it.

It works for the day. Until well after Hodgins and Angela leave for the day, until I'm alone with my regrets and thoughts in my office, well after I've slipped off my lab coat and become just Brennan, not Dr. Brennan.

I look up at a knock and see Cam lingering by the door not quite crossing the threshold into my office. "Yes, Dr. Saroyan?" I ask feigning calm, looking back at the paperwork already having a pretty good idea what this is about, though not wanting it to happen.

“You've been injuring yourself.” almost cold, but still hiding worry even I could hear

I freeze, surprised at the directness to an extent, and her tone of voice. “Yes, Dr. Saroyan.”

“I can't do nothing about it, Dr. Brennan. As your boss, you could become a danger to yourself or others in the field or lab.”

“I'd never, ever do that Cam, I won't put others in danger.”

“As your friend, am I supposed to let you continue, you know as well as I do that blood loss is not a walk in the park, even if you aren't going for the kill you could still accidentally kill yourself and cause serious damage, am I supposed to be okay with that?”

“Yes, you aren't supposed to care. I'm not worth it.” I stand, and start grabbing my stuff to leave

She scoffs “Well tough, I do care, everyone in the lab cares." and just like that we both pause, I had my jacket half on, but at those words... 'she's lying,' one of the voices in my head deems, another, softer voice argues 'what reason would she have to do that?' 'to assuage her guilt' the first voice responds "I was thinking about it earlier, and no matter what way I spin it I should've known that you weren't ok." She says taking a few steps closer to my desk.

"Leave it alone, Cam. I'm fine." I say only then looking up at my boss and friend.

"That's bull Dr. Brennan and we both know it." She says not breaking eye contact for more than a split second.

What am I supposed to say to that, that I realized that my life mean nothing to me without them, that I am expendable, that I am to weak to live alone now, even though I've been alone most my life? Was I supposed to say that I couldn't breath when Booth gambled our partnership when I saw I hurt him. Crimson blood stained my arm for the first time in over a decade and a half, that it continued for weeks before I went to Maluku where I did it at least three, if not four or five, times a week, just to make the pain my own? Or am I supposed to say that she and Booth and everyone else were right? That I am selfish that I am incapable of human emotions, but I can feel the slight sting proving I can at least feel pain like any other person? That it stops the nightmares, sometimes. 

But instead of answering with any of that, I respond with "What do you want me to say?" In a calm voice we both remain silent for a second. She seems to realize that I'm asking a dozen or more questions in one, am I supposed to lie or tell her everything, tell her not to tell anyone. or ask for help, yell and scream and fight, or cry and admit everything?

She doesn't answer instead she sighs then says, "I will put you on suicide watch. I'll call Sweets. You will not be allowed in the field with Booth."

“Maybe that's for the best…”

“Brennan…”

"You know what, Cam, do what you have to and, I will do the same." I say shutting down my computer before trying to leave the room, but when I pass by Cam she grabs my wrist barely holding it. I still turn to look at her, but her eye contact doesn't break from mine and instead of seeing anger I see sadness. "Let it go, Dr. Saroyan, it's not worth it, I'm not worth it." 

“What does that mean, where did you get that idea?”

“It's the truth.” I say, finally leaving my office and the Jeffersonian.

I run to my car, hardly breathing, I kick the door before throwing it open and slamming it shut, shoving the key in the ignition. I pause for a moment as the tears start to spill down my face as I pull out of the parking garage. I make a decision that may hurt them, but no less than I already have.

Besides I'm not worth it.

I won't be grieved for like a person.


	4. Chapter 4

Tears

 

My hand hesitates over the paper. I know this will hurt them, for a while, they will probably feel undo guilt, but they deserve to know why.

I’m not vain enough to think it will deprive families of the truth though. The team is great, even without me.

They should know that they're not at fault. That I'm just too weak to keep up the façade that I'm okay

~~~My Family: Angela, Jack, Booth, Cam, Sweets, Zack, Dad, Russ.

Thank you,

For helping and supporting me over these years. For loving me and showing me what love is, I know I never made it easy. I’m sorry for the lies I have told, at the time I thought they were for one or more of your benefits, many of them I still stand by doing. 

Angela, there was nothing you could've done that would change this outcome, it's been inevitable for awhile now. I’m sorry that I wasn’t good enough to change it. I love you, more than you'll ever know, I'm sorry I couldn't be the friend you deserve, that you had me as a best friend.

Hodgins, I can't think of anyone more worthy of Angela, please don't let this eat her alive, or yourself. You are one of the people I trust most, I thought you’d better know that. I'm sorry I didn't help you after the gravedigger caught us. I’m sorry for that moment I was happy. That moment was simultaneously the most terrifying and happiest moment in my life when I realized I wasn't alone in that car. I wasn’t lying in the airport before I left.

Cam, you get your job back you're officially the boss of the lab again, though I can't fathom why you accepted my terms, none the less, I am very grateful for it. To say we got off to a rough start would be an understatement, but I love you. I’m sorry how our last conversation went. Can I ask you one last thing? Don't let the interns leave the Jeffersonian. Find someone new to teach them, you have the list, don't let them be punished for their teacher’s weakness. I'm sorry for not listening earlier.

Sweets, thank you for putting up with Booth and I all these years, and helping us. You may want to know that you're primary conclusions about Booth and I from your book was right, at least for me, the dam broke, but that is not what resulted in this decision. I love you, Baby Duck, you couldn’t have stopped this though. I'm sorry for disrespecting you, that I doubted you repeatedly.

Zack, you are truly King of the Lab. You are the best forensic anthropologist I ever had the pleasure of working with. I know you didn’t actually kill the man, the evidence doesn’t make sense. I spent a long time trying to figure out why you made the decision to tell us you did it, but I think I finally figured it out. Finally, I'm sorry for not not being a better teacher.

Dad, I know by doing this I'm negating all that you and Mom did to keep us safe. I'm sorry I'm so broken Daddy. I've tried to hide it and I think for these last few years I've been the happiest since I was 15. I'm sorry for the trouble this is going to cause, I’m sorry I wasn’t stronger.

Russ, I never stopped loving you. I’m sorry to do this to you and the girls. Please don't hate me for leaving you. I'm sorry for pushing you away all those years. I’m sorry I didn’t understand what nineteen meant, Polo.

Booth, I'm not quite sure to write you. There was a time where you knew everything about me. I'm sorry I didn't give you a chance, I couldn't saddle you with my demons, not this time. I had so many and the trip to Maluku added many more. Please forgive me for the night in front of the FBI building, I just couldn't risk losing you, though I guess I did anyway. Do you remember the conversation we had maybe two or three months into our partnership, about how when you go on vacation alone you think about not coming back? Just think of this as though I finally took that to heart and decided not to come back from Maluku. Please don't stop being… you. I'm sorry I couldn't give you 30, 40, 50, years. I wish you and Hannah the best.

Truthfully, I’m not sure if this is the best course of action, but I just can't compartmentalize anymore. I can't lie anymore. I've given it my best but, my best hasn't been good enough. It hasn't for a while. I have to end my life before you guys realize how broken I am. You were wrong to care for me and I hope you are able to stop loving me. I’m so sorry, I just can’t deal with this anymore, I’ve tried, I swear I have, and for a while I was succeeding, but I’ve well and truly failed.

Don’t blame yourselves.

Sincerely yours,

Dr. Temperance Brennan~~~

I finish the note signing it with a almost flourish like I would to sign a book or paper work.

I grab two piles of papers one being my most recent book, completed in a fit of insomnia, I know that it will give them more answers than the note ever will and the other is my will.

I had already calculated the lethal dose of the antidepressants and sleeping pills when mixed with vodka as all the systems would shut down. I planned to take them quickly then to speed up death I would cut my brachial artery and my cephalic and basilic veins on both arms one quick, deep, cut just above my elbow. I could cut the carotid or jugular but it would cause massive spray that would make the apartment so bloody and I don't want anyone to find me like that.

I grab the glass of vodka and half of the pills swallowing them with one gulp I repeat the action with the other half I then grab the knife, I had brought it home from one of my digs in Guatemala. The decorations on the handle digs into my palm. I start at the left side of my forearm plunging it in over my brachial artery the blood starts forcing it's way out of the wound, I pull it across my arm till the blood turns darker, I had hit the veins. I pull it out and repeat on the other arm. The blood mixes with the tears flowing down my face. The black spots start swimming across my vision , I feel my hand lose it's grip on the knife as my body falls to the ground.

Dr. Temperance Brennan is dead.

CWmUCWmUCWmUCWmUCWmUCWmUCWmUCWmUCWmUCWmU

Cam's POV

“Come on, Booth, pick up, pick up.” the litany I'm repeating under my breath does no good as Booth doesn't answer any of his phones and I've tried them all repeatedly. I slam the phone down when I get another voicemail. I grab the phone again but this time instead of Booth I try the next best person, thanking God when he answers within the first two rings

"Dr. Sweets." He answers and I sigh in relief

"Sweets, I need you to meet me outside the Jeffersonian." I say trying to keep my voice steady, but failing miserably.

"I'll be there in 5 minutes, Dr. Saroyan." He says even as I hear him starting his car

"What's going on, Dr. Saroyan?" He asks, barely letting his car stop before he is outside it and walking towards me.

"It's Brennan, she's hurting herself." I tell the shrink.

"Did you call Booth?" Sweets asks me, trying to appear calm but completely failing to hide that he's worried for the anthropologist.

"I tried to but, he didn't answer." I say not quite hiding my anger at my long time friend.

"Ok and you're worried about her doing what?" He asks me, trying to figure out why I told him tonight, told him to meet me instead of just telling him over the phone. 

"Trying to kill herself? Or something else?” I flinch at the idea, that is slowly seeming to be more and more of a real possibility.

I don't want that thought to go through my head, but with the comments she made before she left, I honestly think someone knowing may be the straw that breaks the camel's back. I pause before just saying.

"Call it a gut feeling but, yes. The way she was acting, the way she was talking…I think she will try to kill herself, quite feasibly tonight."

"Ok, let's go check on her." He says turning back to his car

"What do you mean?" I ask, my mind reeling after this whole day, a bit confused as to how little persuading it took for him to believe me. Hell, until today, I wouldn't believe me.

"I've been worried about Brennan for quite awhile now, Booth told me I was crazy but, you're telling me something is wrong, quite frankly I trust you and the others in the lab over Booth when it comes to her as of late." He says moving to the driver side of the car.

"I'm going to check on her, it would be awesome if you came incase you're right, M.D. and all that." He says looking at me over his car with the door open I nod and get in.

The car ride is almost silent except for Sweets' tapping on the steering wheel at the stop lights, how we hit every single one in the twenty minute ride, I'll never know. My thoughts are running rampant through my head each one more worrisome than the previous.

We get to her building in record time, barely slowing down. The doorman doesn't stop us knowing where we're going as we jog up the one set of stairs to floor 2 finding her apartment quickly.

Sweets grabs her doorknob and attempts to turn it neither of us believing that she would leave it unlocked but to our surprise it clicks open, my stomach drops to my heels as we take a few tentative steps into her apartment. Then we see a crimson pool of blood surrounding an unconscious Brennan. Blood is coming from her arms, an alcohol bottle overturned on the table mixing its contents with the blood. Nearby a stack of papers and a knife resting about two inches from her, it appeared to have fallen from her hand. On the counter a few pill bottles have been knocked over and show there remaining contents.

I rush beside her kneeling right by her arm, the warm blood making short work of seeping through my pants as I check for her pulse and sigh in relief when I find it, it's weak and racing from the blood loss, but there nonetheless. I turn to Sweets "Call 911!" My voice steady, I know what to do, I know how to help.

I tear the blanket from the nearby couch ripping a portion of it off and tying it tight just over the slightly shallower cut on one arm while using the other portion to try and slow down the bleeding on the arm closest to me. But I don't know how long that will work. When's the damn ambulance getting here?

I'm answered by Sweets reentering the room. I look up at him for a split second.

"When will they be here." I ask trying to hide my fear, as the blood starts to coat my fingers, this will only work for a short time… if the don't get here soon then…

"They said They'd be here in five or six minutes." He states "What can I do?"

"Check if she took anything and what the hell she took. Maybe she made a mistake and her blood will be slowed." I say moving my head in the direction of the counter. Hoping against hope that for once in her life, Brennan made a mistake.

"On it," he says grabbing the two pill bottles. "this one is an antidepressant, bupropion hydrobromide, Aplenzin, if she took a handful of these it could've been enough to force unconsciousness let alone adding this." he says holding up the other bottle "Xanax, powerful used to also stop night terrors and sleepwalking. You know why she had these?"

"No, what would happen if you took those with alcohol?" I ask knowing the answer but hoping I'm wrong.

The look on his face does nothing to comfort me, he knows enough about drugs to know that that combination is deadly.

He is stopped from verbally answering by the paramedics coming in. They immediately rush over and one of their hands replace mine over Brennan.

One of the three paramedics starts asking us questions “Do you know her name?”

“Yes, Dr. Temperance Brennan, she works with Dr. Saroyan here at the Jeffersonian in conjunction with the FBI.” Sweets speaks first

"Do you know what happened?" He asks

"We were worried about her, she couldn't've been here for more than fifteen, twenty minutes before we got here." I say

"When we got here she was unconscious. She had the cuts and everything was a mess. I went to call 911 and Dr. Saroyan stayed in here trying to minimize the bleeding." Sweets adds.

"I tied off her left arm the best I could and kept pressure on her right arm. These were on the counter when we came in." I say, as Sweets hands him the bottles of pills.

“Do you know if she’s been depressed? Could she have done this to herself?”

“Before today I'd have said no, but after today… I'd be shock if it wasn't.”

"Thank you for all your guys' help." The paramedic says leaving just seconds behind the others. Leaving us in her empty apartment. It had been maybe forty-five minutes tops since I talked to Dr. Brennan at the Jeffersonian. God how could the world turn so insane in less than an hour.

I should've done something more, said something more, stopped her from leaving, I can't help but think.

Looking at Sweets, I can tell he was thinking the same thing.


	5. Loss

There wasn't much conversation; we didn't need it to know that we were going to the hospital.

As Sweets drove us to the hospital I tried and fail to get a hold of Booth again.

I have more luck with Max, I only have to try one of his numbers to catch him and as luck would have it, he was already in D.C. and within two minutes he is on his way to the hospital.

Next, I try Hodgins hoping he can tell Angela without her having an all out panic attack. I get him on the second ring.

"Dr. Hodgins speaking." He answers.

"Hodgins, it's Brennan…" I pause and take a breath "She's being taken to the hospital." I say hoping my voice doesn't shake.

"Cam, what happened?" He asks, worry seeping into his voice.

I hesitate before speaking clearly, "Suicide. She tried to kill herself."

The line is so quiet I'm not sure if he's still there until "You're sure?" He demands sounding terrified yet his voice never rising. 

"Yes, Sweets and I were the ones to find her.” I attempt to sound calm but hear a small break in my voice

"This is Dr.B we're talking about, she'd never…are we sure that it wasn't someone out for revenge or…she's not good enough at lying to fool all of us." He says his voice holding an emotion I couldn't quite discern.

“She can lie, we've all seen her do it before, if she doesn't want us to know, she can do so convincingly.”

“I just- she said she was fine.”

I shake my head despite knowing he can't see.

"No, she hasn't, I don't think she has for quite a while." I state, the guilt, however irrational it may be, washing over me in waves, thinking I should've seen it sooner, should've done something more.

"I'll tell Ange and we'll be there within the half-hour."

"Sounds good." Then another thought strikes me "have either one of you been able to get a hold of Booth today?" Maybe they know what's up with Booth. "He hasn't answered any of my calls."

"No, remember he said he's gonna take Hannah to that B&B just out of town for the weekend. His phone is probably off.” The scientist says I can almost hear the scowl in his voice.

"Great. So he doesn't answer his phone because he's busy screwing his…" I fume under my breath before sighing. "If he calls one of you guys, tell him what's going on, please."

"Yeah on it. See you there." He responds before hanging up

I stare at the phone for a moment then look at Sweets "How is it that a year ago Booth would've been the first to notice something was wrong before it got even remotely this bad, but now we can't even get him to pick up his damn phone."

"I don't think agent Booth actually saw what was going on because of him “moving on”, he didn't want to see that something was wrong, so he didn't, the mind is a powerful thing. Dr. Brennan is a good actress when she wants to be, I mean, she wouldn't've shown anything but being ok. It's not really in her nature to show weakness to anyone." He states. I can't tell if he's telling me or talking to himself, but I can hear him beating himself up for not seeing this coming and stopping it.

We pull up to the hospital not even a whole minute after he says this. The emergency room is almost empty save for maybe half a dozen people in the 40 or more chairs

We had been at the hospital for maybe five minutes when Max gets there half yelling half demanding of the nurse at the front desk "My daughter, Temperance Brennan, was brought in, what happened, where is she?"

Sweets and I slowly inch closer trying to hear and ready to intercede if Max does something that may get him kicked out.

"They just took her into surgery." The nurse tells him "A doctor should be out shortly to speak with you."

I look down at my hands I almost get sick seeing the blood still there. I leave the ex-con to Sweets and excuse myself to the bathroom. I watch as the pink water runs off my hands into the sink. I watch it snake its way to the drain.

I don't realize that I had been staring at it and had frozen, tears streaming down my face, my mind numb, until there is a click of the door opening and a hand on my shoulder. I snap my head up and meet Angela's eyes "Hey." I whisper my voice breaking

"Hey, Sweets said you left ten minutes ago, asked me to check on you." Angela says, voice taut with emotion "You ok?"

"I should be asking you that question." I state wiping the tears from my eyes 

"I, um, saw a few of her cuts on her shoulder today, tried to talk to her about it. Just before she left the Jeffersonian, she tells me to let it go, that she's not worth it. Called Sweets because I was more than slightly worried if it wasn't for him, deciding to check on her, Brennan would be dead." I pause leaning heavily on the sink "How did none of us notice?"

"You know, I've been asking myself that since you called. The only thing that I can think of is she didn't want us to and we didn't want to, so we didn't." Angela tells me.

"But, you and Sweets saved her and, her doctor is supposed to be out soon." She puts her hand out. "You, coming?" I nod and grab her outstretched hand.

As we return to the waiting room the others look up only for a split second before returning to what they were doing before. Angela reclaims the seat by Hodgins resting her head on his shoulder. His face is almost blank but, his eyes betray the shock, guilt and confusion that he is really thinking. How much of a loss he's at, that we all are at.

Sweets is not standing still his eyes moving from one poster on the wall to another and another, his leg is bouncing, his hand is twisting and folding and twisting and unfolding the paper in his hand.

I couldn't help but notice the similarities between Max and Brennan as he paces the length of the waiting room like Dr. Brennan did when Booth was shot, pacing the length of the room, back and forth.

Dr. Foster, Dr. Brennan's doctor, was out talking to Max in under ten minutes

"Mr. Brennan, your daughter was very lucky, if she was found even five minutes later she would've bled out." I hear a sharp intake of breath behind me and without even looking I knew it was Angela. 

"We were able to patch up most of the damage but, unfortunately, she knew what she was doing. We pumped her stomach and replenished her blood but, she is not out of the woods quite yet. If she makes it through these next 24 hours she should be fine, though there may be some possible long term damage." the doctor says in a calm voice.

"Thank goodness." slips from my lips almost silently but, it seems to be the general consensus of the room.

"Can we see her?" Max asks

"Yes, only two at a time though. She's in room 1485."

"Thank you, doctor." Max says before moving towards the elevator none of us hesitate to follow him

When we get up to the 14th floor Max goes to see his daughter but the rest of us go to the waiting room as we're waiting I try to call Booth again.

Ring

Ring

Voicemail

"Seeley, call me when you get this." Is all I say. Perfect I know he had to 'move on' but did he have to not answer his fucking phone. I scoff out loud but otherwise don't show any indication of my thoughts.

"Booth?" Hodgins asks I nod "Didn't answer?" He more states then asks

I still answer "Yeah, hasn't all night."

"Wonderful." he says sarcastically but before the others can join in the conversation, Max comes out. Sweets and I look toward the others when they look at us almost asking if they should go next, I nod and Sweets motions for them to go.

The three of us are left to sit in silence as Angela and Hodgins leave. Sweets is still fidgeting and Max is still pacing until Max breaks it. 

"You know between you lot and Booth I'm never going to pay all the debts I have for the lives of my children. You guys saved her life." He tells us.

I see Sweets look down suddenly finding his shoes immensely interesting and I feel like a cold hand snaked around my stomach and squeezed it. We didn't notice, we let it get this far, we don't deserve his thanks.”

When neither of us answers Max doesn't speak again and we fall back into the silence that is only broken when Hodgins and Angela come back to the room, Sweets and I then get up and slowly walk to the room. 

I kind of linger in the doorway for a moment I look her over the white sheets replace the red pools of blood that were under her, the gauze covers the huge cuts and the steady beep of the machine is in place of the terrifying silence from the last time we saw her. For what feels like the millionth time that night I thank God she's alive, after tonight I realize just how much of a loss the team is without her. I pray she stays stable and that the loss of her isn't permanent.


	6. Chapter 6

Mercy

Hodgins POV

"Come on, Booth! Answer your fucking phone!" I fume into the phone's voicemail. When Cam and Sweets left I had tried the agent knowing Cam hadn't had any luck earlier, but he hadn't answered me or Max or Ange either. I really hope he is enjoying his weekend because although this going off the grid thing wasn't even the most assholeish move he's pull in the past few months. I had seen first hand, and heard about it from Angela as she ranted off the things Brennan had mentioned to her in passing, I knew if he wasn't avoiding us and Dr. B then he was shoving Hannah and his ‘moving on’ in her face, it is the worst timing he's had. I knew it was part of what broke her.

How the hell did any of us let it get this far? I get Booth, he didn't want to see what his 'moving on' did to his partner. But the rest of us got a front row seat to her self-destruction. Angie mostly shrugged it off thinking it was that her best friend had just realized what she lost, but she still tried to keep a worried eye on her. I had seen her pulling away from us and didn't do anything, why the hell didn't I do anything? Why didn't any of us?

I look over at my wife I know her back is killing her, being well into her second trimester. I observe as she almost dozes off then jerks awake. I turn to Max "Tell the others I've taken Angela home, I'll be back in a few." I state getting up and helping my wife up, barely getting a mumbled protest to leaving.

I need to do something to feel useful when there's trouble in the lab I'm doing something, anything, to help when I'm home I'm always tinkering with something for our baby. As I pull out of the parking spot I realize one thing I can do, I can attempt to pull Booth's head out of his ass. I drop Angela off and make sure she actually goes to bed before I leave, hoping she'll get at least some rest.

Thankfully there is no traffic as I drive to the Bed and Breakfast. I vaguely remember Booth bragging about how nice it was at the lab earlier this week as luck would have it I had taken Angela there just before we left for our trip to France.

The main area with the lobby is at the head of the parking lot and there are six rooms on either side of it surrounding the lot. I spot Booth's car almost immediately parked right in front of one. I pull up beside his car and walk up to the door and I slowly raise my hand and pound the door three times. I see a sliver of light shine under the door the chain rattles as the door opens to reveal a very annoyed, if slightly confused, Special Agent Seeley Booth.

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Brennan's POV

The first thing I note through the blackness is that I'm laying down on something kind of rough but, not rough like burlap but it wasn't soft like silk either and it was almost definitely fabric.

When I try to open my eyes but my muscles fail, the weight holding them closed. Instead of straining against it, I try to figure out how I got wherever I am. I smell antiseptic and rubber, the Jeffersonian? Maybe. I also hear an annoying beeping sound. So the logical conclusion is I'm in a hospital. Why.

I start thinking and then I remember the last day in flashes. Slicing into my arm and patching myself up. Going to work and hiding in limbo. Cam finding out. Hiding until she came in later trying to help. The alcohol. The pills. The knife gliding across my skin. Blood pools upon pools of it. Then blackness, but I don't think I'm dead, if I was, my heart wouldn't be pounding in my ears. If booth was right I would feel something, anything but the numbness that has engulfed me this past year. But not being dead begs the question, why, who stopped me?

I think and think but I can't figure out why I'm not, I mean logic tells me someone saved me but, I can't think of anyone who would care. I'm useless, expendable...weak. My thoughts are cut off by a voice I can't tell, through the haze I seem to be in, whether it's male or female let alone who it is but I can narrow it down to who it likely is, more likely than not it's one of my family, I do hear the hurt in their voice, it is one of the few emotions I can pick up easily or at all.

I'm the one hurting them. They weren't supposed to know until I was dead. What did they see that I didn't, that makes me worth getting upset about, caring about me, I'm worthless, replaceable, weak, I've been told and shown many times over the years. By foster families, and strangers, and lovers and most recently by the ones I care about most.

Trying to ignore the dark voice in my thoughts I allow the fog to consume me back into a world of unknowing.

I find it's not as calm as I had hoped for as I'm tossed into a nightmare, so similar to the ones I had nightly until that one finished as I finally cried mercy against the cutting words of my friends and I move to the next.

It is not a dream or even a nightmare but memory. 

I'm sixteen again as my foster father is beating down on me until he yanks me by my hair to the trunk of their old car as I repeat a plea of "please don't"s and "I'm sorry"s as the trunk slams shut until two days later when he rips it open and hauls my weak body out and proceeds to take the one thing he hadn't taken until that point. Then taking his knife out and marking me as his. I was too weak then.

Then it suddenly stops and I'm in a dirt cell. The man standing over me isn't of Indonesian descent so this isn't from just seven months ago. The man reaches back to hit me, I raise my hand that he had left untied from the sparse dinner he gave, and block the hit pulling him to the ground. Before I know it he has the upper hand and is punching and kicking me all over. He doesn't have a chance to go further before the police arrive. I was too weak then.

The next memory is from only months ago, my muscles strain to be released from the imaginary chains, I'm too weak to stop the attacks over the month.

Then it all freezes, I feel a hand near my face. I reach up to hit it away and I feel my real hand come into contact with someone else's, the nightmare shatters away. As my eyes bolt open for a moment before I squeeze them shut again from the light right above my head. I feel my chest almost heaving from the ragged breaths I'm taking. I hear the same voice talking to me, the same one that was talking to me in the darkness.

I hear a flick as the light is turned off and I ease my eyes open slowly.


	7. Chapter 7

Hatred

Booth's POV

I'm jerked awake from a semi-peaceful slumber by a banging. I bolt into a sitting position on the bed looking over to Hannah to find her still asleep. I turn on the lamp beside my bed and get out of bed. I look at the blurry clock 3:38 am, “Who in the name of God’s green earth…” I pull on a pair of old army sweats and put on a button up shirt not even bothering to button it up before looking through the peephole to see Hodgins, what the hell is he doing here.

I knew I needed to move on and, despite what the Squints and Sweets think, who they think I should be with, things weren't going to change. She once claimed they they were my squints, she was wrong, they may be more my squints than any of the other FBI agents they worked with previously, but in the end they were her squints. Her squints, her lab, her choice. I gave her a chance, she turned me down. I have Hannah. I needed to move on from her.

I gambled and I lost.

But I've come to the realisation that moving on from her is impossible. The diamond hard and mile high walls she has erected around her heart keeps all those who aren't willing to work out. However, once you get a taste of what's inside you're hooked on one of the strongest addictions I've ever know. You can't walk away and the stronger the addiction the worse the withdrawal.

So I pushed them all away in the hopes I could, not forget, but move on at the very least. And I almost did it, the no contact for seven months almost did that. Then I came back, I was bitter, 7 months and she couldn't pick up a phone, but then I saw the look in her eyes, her actions, heard her explain vaguely that she was just as, if not more, cut off from the others, from me.

She pulled me back in telling me about how the locals weren't happy with the dig. How they sabotaged it in various ways, but after that she said no more, giving no more details than necessary.

I needed to put space between us, save myself before I got pulled back in. I ask her about meeting anyone special. I told her about Hannah. Put all the space I could and then put some between me and her and by extension the squints.

As I pulled the door opened, it revealed how angry Hodgins was… perhaps angry was the wrong word, too minuscule for the hatred in his eyes, I hadn't seen this much hatred directed at me in any of the squints eyes in several years. I was uneasy but I wasn't going to show him that. 

"What do you want, Hodgins?" I demand in a voice maybe too harsh, but it's nearing 4 in the morning on a Saturday morning after a impossibly draining week.

"Thought you should know, your partner is in the hospital." He says, with a glare shot in my direction and continues "as you couldn't answer your phone for over six hours..."

I had of course heard my phone ring but had ignored it, Hacker had a specific ring and the others I thought could wait till morning. Grabbing it from the table near the door I look at the missed calls, almost a dozen from Cam starting near nine, half a dozen from Sweets and Hodgins, five from Angela and, even two from Max and nearly as many voicemails and upwards of forty texts all within the last six hours. I also noticed the distinct lack of calls from Bones, “What happened?" I ask, stepping past the threshold out into the brisk October night.

"Dr. B… she tried to kill herself, damn near succeed."

"What?" I ask, she had told me about her past how she had cut previously but she told me she stopped, she told me she was fine. how long ago was that? a voice in my head asks me "When?"

"About ten tonight, thankfully Cam and Sweets found her before…" He says with a look that I can't quite discern

"Can you take me to her?" I ask knowing that I needed to be there if only for myself.

He doesn't say anything just walks to his car, before he gets in and he looks at me. "You coming?" He ask getting in and bringing the engine to life I slip in quietly.

The ride is silent for the first ten minutes "You blame me." I state breaking the ringing silence.

"Damn right I blame you, Booth. You left."

What the hell was he talking about I had told him and Angela what happened a few weeks before we left 

"I asked her to give me a chance, she turned me down." I remind him "She chose to leave first. She didn't contact me for seven months."

He pulls over to the side of the road "You asked the person who you of all people know does not gamble on anything to make a split decision on whether to be involved with you, love you. When she couldn't make that quick decision you told her you needed to find someone who could love you.You didn’t even give her time. She got the offer first, she was going to talk to you, you told her you were leaving before she could even talk to you, like partners do. You, came back with your serious-as-a-heart-attack girlfriend, Desert Storm Barbie, 7 months after telling her you love her." He says in an eerily calm voice never breaking away from my eye contact "So, though it may not be entirely your fault, hell it's all our faults, you have a pretty big chunk of the blame." He pulls back out into the nearest lane. The rest of the drive to the hospital is covered in thick silence.

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The thoughts from the dream swirl through my head mixing with my real thoughts. In the end fact mixes with fiction until my normally rational mind can't distinguish between the two. I feel my heart race and I'm hot, sweating ...they know, they'll hate you they're going to leave you just like everyone else... a voice says, the world spins as my breath goes shallow, I'm hyperventilating, I can't slow my breath, too much oxygen causing the same result as having too little, I hear a different voice "...Dr. Brennan, you're okay..." This one doesn't sound like it's in my head.

In a split second of clarity I realize I'm having a panic attack, I had them before, I knew I needed to ground myself, but I didn't have my keys to hold, to prove I'm safe, I move towards the wall putting my back against it, I hear the monitor beeping. I put my head against my knees.

I look up at a soft touch to my hand and meet Cam's eyes "Brennan, What's wrong?"

"They- you- can't know. They'll hate me- lying. They'll leave, didn't mean to hurt them. I swear I didn't, I'm sorry… hurt… sorry.… I'm sorry I hurt them" I can hardly get a full sentence out

"Dr. Brennan, you need to slow down your breathing, they're going to have to sedate you if you can’t." 

“I-I can't.” I force out.

She pauses before grabbing my hand lightly, "Here, copy me." She pulls in her breath for one, two seconds the releases repeating until I've slowed my breathing, "No one is going to leave you. No one is mad or wants you to apologize." She says looking at me as I start to see the world clearly, no longer in tunnel vision. "You're going to be okay."

I'm fine, I'm safe.

What did he tell me last time, distract myself, that's it. Hydrogen, Helium, Lithium, Beryllium, Boron, Carbon…, I start listing off the elements, trying to distract my mind …Nitrogen, Oxygen, Fluorine, Neon, Sodium, Magnesium, Aluminum, Silicon, Phosphorus..., my breathing slows I feel myself come out of it. I hear a nurse come into the room, sounding slightly worried, out of the corner of my eyes I see Sweets, just stepping inside the room

"Miss Brennan,”

“Doctor.” Sweets and Cam both correct absentmindedly, neither of them looking away from me. “She's a doctor.” Sweets continues.

“Okay, Dr. Brennan, all your monitors spiked, are you okay? You seem to have pulled your IVs out." The nurse says, grabbing the needles laying by the bed. I feel my entire body tense when she grabs my arm I know I'm not completely out of the panic attack I try not to struggle to get my arm free. Sweets or Cam must have noticed because someone makes a noise and she lets go.

I hear footsteps and a new voice tells the nurse, "Sedate her." The nurse nods and puts something in my reinserted IV a tunnel of grey clouds my vision until blackness fills it completely.

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Sweets POV

"Has this ever happened before?" asks the doctor when Dr. Brennan is sedated

"Not that I'm aware of." I answer as Cam shakes her head

"Aren't you her psychologist?" He half demands half accuses.

"Dr. Brennan's foster care file is closed, even to me, most of her digs outside the country are also highly classified and, she doesn't put much stock in psychology. As I am her colleague she thinks if she tells me too much about her past I'll think of her as weak. So, though I am her psychologist I have no knowledge as to whether or not she has previously had panic attacks. She just got back from a dig in Maluku, Indonesia. If I were you I would check with the medical doctor there." I keep my voice mostly calm but, the doctors words are correct. How could I not know that she was depressed and if she had previously had panic attacks, I see her at least once a day. So much for being a trained psychologist. How could she have kept this hidden from us? And what else was she hiding?

**Author's Note:**

> So I posted this on ff.net but I figured if see what you thought. Please tell me what you think.


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